


To Be Loved

by avyssoseleison



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bodily Insecurities, Chubby Dean, Dean Has Self-Esteem Issues, Feeding, Going on Dates, Hand Feeding, M/M, Praise Kink, Self-Esteem Issues, Supportive Castiel, Unhealthy Way of Losing Weight/Not Taking Care of One's Body, Weight Issues, trying to lose weight, very mild sexual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 11:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4604277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avyssoseleison/pseuds/avyssoseleison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally, Dean has gotten together with his gorgeous neighbour Castiel, and life should be perfect and he should enjoy himself - if only he hadn't gotten all pudgy and soft from being single for so many years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be Loved

Dean has been single for so long that it’s completely unexpected when he actually manages to win the new guy from next door, Castiel, for himself. Honestly, Dean’s over the moon and grinning like a sap all day, because not only is Castiel beyond attractive, he’s also really funny and kind and always has something nice to say about Dean whenever they meet. And Dean can only stammer and blush and try not to look like a complete egghead whenever he compliments him again.  


So, Dean should be well and truly happy. And he is; about Cas, that is. The only problem is that during his many years of being single, he’s become a bit of a sloth, which also extended to his eating and workout routines: too much pie and too little exercising. He’s gotten soft, especially around the middle, but also his butt and thighs look like they could belong to a very curvy woman. And Dean had come to terms with it when he was only by himself anyway, but as soon as Cas, who’s got the body of a runner and arms with which he could easily lift even someone as heavy as Dean and do with him whatever he pleases, enters the picture, Dean starts to become self-conscious.

But nothing’s lost, Dean decides. They haven’t even seen each other naked, as both of them have decided that they want to take it slow and concentrate on getting to know each other better first, so Dean still has plenty of time to trick Cas into thinking his boyfriend (and the word alone make Dean giggle) is a fit guy and to actually bulk up in the meantime.  


Dean’s plan works out pretty well for the first few days. Neither Cas nor he have much time to see each other during the week, so Dean can concentrate on eating as little as possible (and no pie!) and to force himself to go for a run in the mornings and the evenings. He doesn’t manage to run for very long or very far, but as sore as his muscles are afterwards (and during the whole day that follows), it must be working. Sure, work is hell when he can’t bend down to the cars without gritting his teeth and when his tummy (which is still exactly that: a tummy) is constantly grumbling and his hands often shaking. He feels terrible, physically and mentally, but he knows that it will pay off. Because it’s not his vanity at stake here, but the best person Dean has ever met, so it’s damn worth it.

Cas frowns at him when Dean only eats half of the meal he cooked for him for their Friday dinner, and that frown only deepens when he brings out the pecan pie he made just for Dean, only to have him decline. In the end, Dean lets himself get talked into sharing one piece with Cas at least, and when Cas takes firm hold of the fork and practically feeds ninety percent of the pie to Dean with a slow, indulgent smile, Dean should probably be annoyed or pissed or anything, but instead, all he feels is _warm._ He crowds closer and allows Cas to feed the last bites of the pie with his fingers. _  
_

Things continue similarly the next day, when they go on a date in the small, run-down town cinema and Dean buys neither popcorn nor nachos, whereas Cas has a whole assortment of sweets in his lap. Dean tries to lie about having had a big meal beforehand, but five minutes into the movie, his endlessly grumbling tummy exposes him. Of course, Cas offers him his sweets and to maybe go outside to buy something else for him, but Dean declines with a smile. It’s adorable how thoughtful Cas is, but at the same time, it’s difficult for Dean to remain strong and to not kiss the sugarsweet taste right out of his mouth. For declining again, Cas gives him a look Dean can’t really decipher, but that makes him blush nonetheless. Alright, he simply doesn’t want Cas to know that he’s dieting, because admitting to that would be drawing attention to how chubby and undesirable he still is right now, and he’d rather Cas not notice.

Despite Dean’s resolve, things come to a head on Sunday, on their third date of the weekend. They have gone to the fair, of all things, where Cas gorged himself on everything places like this have to offer (and how can that man still have a body like his when he constantly eats like a pig?), whereas Dean stuck to a sad little slush ice. Despite how Dean’s legs feel heavy and sore, like they are made out of lead, he has a good time and laughs a lot and gets a lot of kisses, and all the troubles of his diet and exercise regime are forgotten when Cas takes his hand in his and they walk back home. There, it only feels natural to keep riding on the warm wave of affection, to come back to Cas’ place and flirt a bit more than usual and to make their kisses last that bit longer. Although Dean doesn’t want to go all the way with Cas yet (at least not for as long as he’s still all jiggly), he feels like going a bit further, to get some special touches and filthier kisses and make out nice and well. He actually craves to.  


And Cas seems very much on board with Dean’s plan. Because as soon as it becomes clear that there is more heat behind Dean’s actions than usual, Cas doesn’t hesitate to tug him towards the sofa and press him down on it, to lavish him with kisses and exploring touches there. And Dean sinks into it, as surprised as turned on by how demanding Cas is, by how he seems to want this just as much as Dean does, if not even more so. It’s flattering, really. And if Dean were in better shape already, he might dare to grind up where he’s already sporting a chubby and to find out whether Cas does, too.

Going by Cas’ actions, he probably does. Because unlike Dean, he is brave and moans into their kisses and lets his lips wander all over Dean’s lids and jaw and throat, only to come to a halt at his collar. And he tugs it down, just enough to expose Dean’s collar bones and to place little kisses there, so soft, as if Dean wouldn’t have to expect him to suddenly suck and mark him there any moment. But Cas holds back, or maybe waits, at least on this part of Dean’s torso, whereas with his hands, he strokes down Dean’s sides and his hips (his _love handles,_ Dean’s brain supplies helpfully), to settle over the yielding flesh of his tummy.

Dean gasps immediately and sucks his belly in, and Cas’ gaze sweeps up to him, assessing and patient. His fingers remain where they are, playing with the hem of his shirt, teasing under it with the tips of his fingers, and despite how awkward and tense Dean feels right now, he still can see how Cas’ eyes blossom into black that bit more, darken in heady promise.

“Dean,” Cas whispers, and it’s unfair how much deeper and rougher his voice is, “may I?” He swipes one finger meaningfully over where Dean’s shirt thankfully still keeps him covered, but where he must feel all warm and soft.  


Dean gulps. On the one hand, he wants nothing more than to get it on with Cas, to see him naked and to have his hands all over him (especially because there is no doubt in his mind that, with how attentive and kind Cas is, he will be an amazing lover), but on the other, what if Cas loses interest as soon as _he_ gets to see Dean naked? Sure, Cas is way too nice a person to make Dean feel bad for his belly, but at the same time, Dean doesn’t want to risk it. He hasn’t known him long enough to know everything about him there is to know; maybe he’s a real snob when it comes to the physical appearance of the people he sleeps with, maybe he will silently draw back from Dean once he’s being confronted with the truth of his boyfriend’s body, maybe he will look like he’s about to laugh and then choke it down for Dean’s sake and find some excuse for them to stop.  


Dean couldn’t bare that. He already feels vulnerable enough as it is, even when he’s still wearing clothes and Cas is gentle to him; how would be feel naked or being laughed at? He can’t risk it.

“I, uhm.” And shit, Dean’s voice is faring no better than Cas’. “Didn’t we wanna wait some more? Like, not that I don’t wanna, but maybe not, uhm, right now?” He licks his lips. Yep, this was totally smooth.

“Yes,” Cas agress, still with that roughness, “and I don’t intend to go further than either of us wants to right now. Truthfully, I don’t even want to go beyond putting off our shirts and ‘making out’, as you would say.” Dean frowns, actually a bit disappointed, and maybe even vindicated. Because if he looked a bit fitter, felt better in his body, he would have liked to do some more now. Not the full-on stuff, but still. Maybe Cas has already caught on? Has the bit of groping been enough to get what Dean’s body is really like?  


“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Cas reconfirms. His fingers start stroking again, but not as demanding as before, more tender than anything. “Would you allow me that, Dean? To take off your shirt and keep kissing you? Kiss all over your beautiful torso, make you feel good, mark you up for those days during the week in which we can’t see each other? Give you something to remember me by, and give me the same in return?”

Dean squirms, embarrassed despite the heat pooling deep in his guts. He wants that, yeah, oh does he ever. Wants Cas to hold him down and bite and suck his skin, so that he can press into the bruises whenever he feels lonely during the week, whenever he misses him. Which he does a lot. Too much, he often thinks.  


Dean swallows heavily.

“Look, can we--” Christ. “Uhm, can we do that maybe another time?”

Cas’ gaze is steady at him, and Dean isn’t sure if he only imagines it or if he looks rather unimpressed with him.

“I don’t think I’m, y’know, ready yet.” Despite the bulge in his pants and despite every molecule of his body craving to be close to Cas, to be touched and loved by him. Which, _loved,_ what the hell? They’ve been together for what, a month or two? When did Dean become so needy?

“Of course,” Cas says, and apparently ‘not ready’ was key word enough for him to remove his hands from the hem of Dean’s shirt. Dean can’t decide whether to be glad or sad about it, though he heavily leans toward the latter.  


And he doesn’t even have time to do as much as sigh and breathe out and properly breathe in again, now that he can finally allow himself to relax his tummy and breathe again, when Cas raises a this time decidedly unimpressed eyebrow.

“I just hope this has nothing to do with whatever diet you seem to be on.”

Dean flushes, caught. _“What?_ What diet?”

Cas settles back where he still half-sits on top of Dean and, wow, apparently despite the change in conversation, Cas still has a generous and more than _ready_ package hidden in his pants. Dean allows himself to stare for a moment, strangely flattered by the effect their little kissing session has had and still has on Cas. The effect _Dean_ has on him.

So maybe he thinks Dean is not all that bad, after all.  


Cas frowns at him just like he had done when Dean declined his pie. “I saw you going out for a run every morning this week, and I’ve never seen you do that before. On Thursday, I talked to the young woman from the first floor, Charlie Bradbury, and she told me that she saw you running every evening. She wondered if you were trying to lose weight. And you sounded overly tired whenever we talked over the phone and then declined so much food, and I first thought that maybe you didn’t feel well, but you seemed to be okay enough to have me feed you pie.”  


Dean feels his face flush even harder. He doesn’t want to be reminded of how nice it felt to sit next to Cas, pressed warm and close, and have him tilt and stroke Dean’s jaw and have him feed him the pie he had specifically made for him, and then have him smile all proudly whenever Dean swallowed and made little pleased noises around each forkful (or fingerful). It was the only indulgence Dean had allowed himself during the week, and now he felt bad -- no, _ashamed_ \-- about it.

“That wasn’t an accusation, Dean,” Cas is quick to remark, but it does nothing to stave off Dean’s embarrassment. Cas’ following words do, though. “Quite the opposite, actually. I was glad to see that despite whatever diet you have apparently begun this week, you still allowed yourself to be treated to something. Treated yourself to something.” Just like he had done when they were eating the pie, Cas puts his hand on Dean’s jaw and caresses it, no judgement whatsoever on his face or voice, only thoughtfulness. “Even if I don’t understand why you think it necessary to go on a diet in the first place. It has obviously put quite a strain on you, and for what end, I wonder, when you are already beyond beautiful.”

Alright, now Cas is laying it on thick, even for a boyfriend who of course would have to be supportive of his boyfriend.

“Right,” Dean says, clearing his throat.

“Do you not agree?”

Dean blows out a breath. “Look, I just... wanna be a bit fitter, alright? More muscle, less fit, run a bit faster. That kinda thing.“

“Is that a No?”

And now Dean can’t help but furrow his brow and slightly twitch away from the hand still caressing his jaw, the tips of his fingers teasing the sensitive skin of his neck. He wants to lean into it and enjoy the touch, but there’s something coiling in his guts that feels like anger and shame, and must be indignation.

Cas, though, doesn’t pull his hand away even when Dean must be making a face at him. Maybe he knows that that only would make it worse, that despite himself, to be touched is what Dean needs right now. And not just right now, but constantly.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, man. I, ah, of course, I don’t think I’m _beautiful._ I’m a guy and all that.”

“I don’t think that makes it any less true,” Castiel hums, but in so low a voice, he might as well be talking to himself. “Do you think you’re attractive, then? Handsome? _Hot?”_ The last one, he says with a quirk of his lips and a good-natured smile. Dean has troubles smiling back.

“Maybe,” he simply replies, squirming uncomfortably. There have been enough people who must have thought him _hot,_ at least, if only for a night. Maybe being drunk and horny enough and having the lights dimmed makes forgetting about Dean’s not-so-perfect body easy enough. It never made him feel hot or even _good_ afterwards, whenever he woke up naked and by himself come morning, but that isn’t the point. The point is that he doesn’t want to give Cas a reason to leave him, and any reason that’s not good enough to make him stay would be one to leave. Like being pudgy and soft all over. No one likes double chin.

“Dean,” Cas sighs out, and he looks troubled. “I find it difficult to think that with you, there might actually be one person in the world who is not completely taken in by your beauty. Not just your looks, as perfect as they are, but also your kind heart and humour, the way you carry yourself, the--”

“Alright, alright!” Dean interrupts. His face is burning, and it’s not just because he’s embarrassed. “I get it, alright? You wanna make me feel better, that’s fair and kinda your job as my boyfriend, but, y’know, don’t spout that shit to my face. Don’t--” He curls his hands into fists and takes a deep breath “--don’t lie to me.”

Cas’ face goes from shocked to hurt to crestfallen. “Oh, Dean,” he says, so small and soft that it breaks Dean’s heart a bit. “I meant every word of this.”

Dean wants to turn away and scream, maybe, to call bullshit and tell Cas to leave. But he doesn’t. Because Cas’ fingers are scratching his scalp, are making him feel safe and good, and despite whatever crap is going through Dean’s mind right now, has been going through for such a long time, or maybe exactly because of this crap, he needs this right now. Maybe he will lose those gentle hands and that slew of kind lies soon enough, but in this very moment, one second away from crying, all he wants is to be loved.

So he says nothing and just lets Cas do whatever he wants to. He allows him to pepper his face with kisses, to keep silent even though his claims about Dean’s beauty are evident in every press of his lips, to guide Dean down onto the couch and squeeze in beside him, his hands and lips always roaming, always tender.

Dean’s sobbing by now, but that doesn’t seem to deter Cas. He kisses his tears away, too, and catches his watery gaze.

And Dean wants to hide away, ashamed from being seen like this, steeped in his insecurities and shame and self-loathing, but Cas doesn’t let him.  


“I will prove it to you,” Cas promises, “if you allow me to. If you try to prove to yourself the same.” He smiles slowly, almost cautiously. “That you are beautiful, that is.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Dean chokes out, and Christ, does he hate how his voice breaks around his words, how every tear is audible in it.

Cas keeps on smiling and presses a small kiss to the tip of his nose. And maybe Cas is just weird or something, because that must be really gross in that moment. Maybe he’s just generally gross, maybe that’s why he says stuff like that to Dean, seems to want to touch his undesirable body.

“I’m sure you can. If we do this together, we can do anything.” With a feather-light touch, he rubs the swollen skin beneath Dean’s eye. “We will get you to see how truly beautiful you are. Not just hot or handsome, but perfect in every way.” His smile turns into a shy little grin. “A real catch.”

And Dean can’t help but laugh weakly at that. “‘Real catch’, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Heh.” Dean leans into the hands that cup his face, allows Cas’ lips to wander from his nose to his mouth to his jaw and down below, where his skin is loose and pudgy, where his chin is soft and jiggly. “Show me, then.”  


**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [my blog](http://avyssoseleison.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
